The Tunnel: Epilogue
by Missgoldy
Summary: Set one month after the events of 'The Tunnel'. Our favourite, quarrelling pair arrive in Egypt for a well deserved break. They will encounter new friendships, sight-seeing, flirting and spitting camels! Read and review, guys! Rated for adult themes.


_**The Tunnel: Epilogue**_

_Description: Set one month after the events of The Tunnel. Our favourite quarrelling pair arrive in Egypt for a well-deserved break. They will encounter new friendships, sightseeing, flirting and independently-minded spitting camels!_

_Hey everybody! Hope you're all well. I'm doing okay... this will be a reasonably long read. Feel free to cut and paste into Microsoft word if you wish. I recommend that you read the previous fic "The Tunnel" before this one, since there are parts that may not make sense without prior knowledge!_

_Anyway, thanks so much for reading over the past few months. I've been getting so much invaluable practice and feedback. I've enjoyed reading your responses, too. Anyway, feel free to email me if you feel the desire or need. All I can say is that there are some die-hard L/W fans out there!_

_The Egyptian content in this fic is reasonably accurate, from what I can remember of Cairo and Luxor._

_**The characters and associated content of Captain Planet belong to Ted Turner and Cartoon Network. The following storyline and additional characters belong to me, Sarah (Missgoldy)**_

**The Tunnel: Epilogue**

His rifle hanging casually from his shoulder, the military guard watched the small group of frazzled tourists cross the road. Or rather, **attempt** to cross the road. Meaning that they were, in fact, failing miserably at this ordinarily simple task.

_Cairo traffic...gets them every time. _Smirking with amusement, he acknowledged this common sight every day. Travelers with their guide books out, attempting to negotiate the polluted roadways, the horns and the vehicles; numerous in both number and dents. Occasionally these visitors would cast anxious looks in his direction, worried that he may open fire on them at any time from his small out-post. The guard supposed it must be an unusual sight: An armed soldier such as himself, spread throughout the tourist area in huge numbers. Even within some of the major hotels, security had had to be increased since the shootings at Deir-El-Bahri and the terrorist threats that had plagued his country since.

His shift was nearly over, however. As his colleague Ahmed approached, the guard systematically gathered up his lunch bag, water bottle and house keys. He briefly spoke with his younger counterpart before beginning the walk to his government-provided dwelling: a small apartment within a massive block of units like his own. He expertly maneuvered his way through the dense mass of people, wondering what he would do on this hot, oppressive Friday evening. Lost in thought, his attention only wavered upon spotting a small, brown monkey dart between his legs and disappear behind him, lost within the diverse crowd.

* * *

"HEY, STAY OFF THE SIDEWALK, MORON!" A battered Ford escort had briefly mounted the curb, nearly relieving the redhead of his toes. As he looked on in anger, the driver took no notice, without so much as an apologetic wave.

Wheeler was beginning to get frustrated. Not that it didn't happen often: it did. This time however, he had just cause to be feeling a little jumpy. It was their fourth night and final night in Cairo: they would be cruising down the Nile River to Luxor tomorrow. It was also the first time they had ventured out of their hotel. It was also to be a mind-boggling lesson in negotiating traffic. Egypt had plenty of traffic lights and pedestrian crossings: the motorists simply chose not to use them. As a result of this dangerous habit, Egypt had an alarming number of car and pedestrian fatalities. Locals literally took their life in their hands when crossing the streets: dodging and weaving through the _moving_ traffic.

Placing a calming hand on Wheeler's back, Linka looked for a break in the endless stream of cars. Finding none, she stepped back as another car rattled past at an uncomfortably close proximity. Sighing, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. The Khalil markets would have to wait for tomorrow.

"Hey, there's a great pub back in our hotel," Anne suggested, motioning in the direction they had just come. Anne and her husband Pete were newlyweds from the outskirts of London. From the same tour, they had immediately befriended Linka and Wheeler and often joined them for meals and drinks. It also gave Linka some female companionship: It was great getting to know the 'Yankee' out of the confines of their previous missions, but she was really missing Gi by now.

"Better bloody well have steak," grumbled Pete, who was suffering from the common tourist ailment known as "Tut's Gut". The ethnic food often played havoc with visitor's stomachs, not just because of the content, but the fact that the ingredients were often washed in water that originated from the Nile River. Even cleaning your teeth and showering could render you ill if you swallowed a small amount of water containing the bacteria.

"Yeah, well I'm gettin' hungry anyway," complained Wheeler as the four returned to their hotel. Sensing that Linka was about to reply, he interrupted quickly before the words had even formed on her lips. "Don't you dare say it, girl!" She shook her head innocently and giggled as he slung an arm around her waist and followed the English couple, Sutchi scampering along behind them.

"I know you too well, babe."

* * *

_The pair had departed for the tour three weeks after she'd been discharged from the hospital, giving them a little time to recover and grieve for their friend. They had remained with Linka's family for the first two weeks, with Mishka showing Wheeler the sights of Moscow. Linka had felt immensely pleased that they were getting to know each other...until they had hit the pubs one Saturday night and returned at 4 in the morning: blind drunk. The language barrier had been further obliterated with each shot of vodka they had consumed that night._

_"That bastard can hold his liquor..." Wheeler had later mentioned groggily, speaking to Linka from the couch he'd passed out on several hours earlier._

_"Where is Mishka?" she had queried._

_"Check outside, he probably didn't make it to the door..." Turning, he buried his head under a cushion as Linka spotted her brother through a window, asleep on the front lawn and lying on his back, spreadagled._

_Shortly after this event, Wheeler had returned home to New York to visit his mother and grab some clothes and belongings. His father had died two years earlier from liver failure, so things were beginning to look up on the home front for the American._

_Things were also beginning to look up for their unemployed, super-hero friend as well. Cap had been a frequent visitor to Linka's modest home since the group had been split. Cap had been offered a job as a council ranger, one he had eagerly and happily accepted. One of the area's that Cap was responsible for included the Black Forest in Germany. Being privy to sensitive information, the ex-superhero had learnt that most of the culprits involved in the tunnel project had been caught and charged. One however, had escaped the federal net: Cheyla. Concerning, to say the least since they still had no idea how she'd managed to infiltrate both the group and Gaia's usually impenetrable radar. _

_"Maybe someone covered her in honey and she was eaten alive by mutant ants?" Gi had suggested on the phone to Linka shortly after Wheeler had departed home. Linka knew there had been no love lost between those two, judging by what Wheeler had told her. _

_Gi and Kwame had found Ma-Ti's people with few obstacles. Contrary to what they were expecting, his family were relieved beyond belief that they had made the effort to find them, inviting them to stay for as long as the two wished._

_Chuckling at Gi's irreverent sense of humour, the girls had talked about old times, before the conversation turned to a more blush-provoking topic._

_"So, are you gus in 'lur-ve', yet?" Gi had asked cheekily._

_"Let me just say that he is behaving himself, like I asked him to. It is too early for that, anyway" Linka had replied hastily, receiving a drawn out sigh in response._

_Knowing that Linka would stubbornly refuse to budge on the topic, Gi let it go with difficulty. Before signing off, Gi left her dear friend with a word of advice before Linka met up with Wheeler, on route to Cairo Airport._

_"Just go with the flow, girl. Stop fighting it...he's a great guy and he adores you. Stop thinking and just have a great time. Oh, and watch out for those camels: I've heard they spit!"_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the the two couples were sitting in a dark but cosy pub within the grounds of the Cairo Marriott. Catering to a vast clientele, the Marriott had several restaurants including cafe's, an outdoor pizzeria, a burger and rib joint and the old English themed pub in which they were now comfortably perusing the menu. Two women from New Zealand, Brooke and Amy, had also joined the small group: all six now temporarily squashed around a wall cubicle, drinking the local 'Stella' brand of beer.

Contrary to his earlier opinion, Wheeler found the beer quite nice as he now stood brooding over the rim of the bottle, playing pool with Pete and half listening to the girls slightly drunken ramblings. Pete took his shot as Wheeler adjusted the wrapping tightly binding his injured hand. He had been extremely lucky: after another round of surgery, he could now flex his fingers and grip soft objects without too much difficulty. Pain would often accompany these actions, however Wheeler hoped this might improve somewhat with time.

Noticing that Pete had finished and watching him expectantly, the American gingerly gripped the pool cue and positioned himself for the shot, taking a quick glance in Linka's direction. Feeling buoyed by the dazzling smile and wave she gave him, he grinned back and sunk a ball expertly.

"You know, I find it quite strange that I'm in the middle of Cairo, where there's so many cultural delicacies to explore, and I'm sitting in a God-damn English tavern just like at home. Talk about pathetic..." Anne took a long swig of her beer as the others chuckled, agreeing with her predicament.

"Da, well what about myself?" Linka volunteered, already a little light headed from the effects of the alcohol. "If I were in that rib restaurant, I'd be an English-speaking Russian in an American restaurant in the middle of Egypt!"

The girls cackled heartily, causing Pete to miss his shot. Shaking his head, Wheeler took his turn, then approached the bar for several minutes before arriving back at the table with another round of drinks for the slightly inebriated women. Placing two Stella's in front of Linka, he left, calling out over his shoulder "I want those finished before our meals arrive, Linka!"

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Yankee?" She exclaimed tipsily, but he just smiled cheekily at her and returned to the game.

"Hey, Giza was fantastic today. Can you believe there's a KFC in front of the Sphinx? Talk about corporate insanity." Brooke was studying to be a lawyer and extremely passionate about many subjects.

"Did anyone get tickets to go inside the pyramid?" asked Anne. The Egyptian government only allowed 300 people per day to walk through the small passage and chamber, as the paintings and reliefs were already deteriorating due to pollution and excess moisture. The others shook their heads.

"They were sold out by the time we got there." Amy stated, disappointed. Unbeknownst to her, Linka and Wheeler had opted out of the optional excursion in light of their previous adventure.

"The camels were great, though! Although you guys were taken on a cross country journey!" Anne remembered, nodding towards Linka. The Russian recalled feeling terrified as their camel had reared away from it's master and trotted towards a sand dune, with Wheeler laughing hysterically from his seat behind her. "_This is not funny, Yankee,_" she had screamed as they approached the crest, three trainers running desperately to catch up and the rest of the tour watching on in amusement. "_Oh come on, you've got something funny to tell your Grandkids, now,_" he had retaliated as the camel finally stopped halfway up the crest, causing such a steep angle that they both had to lean forward in order to stay on...not that Wheeler minded being pressed up against her body.

"Oh yeah, that German couple's camel moved two feet before taking a dump for the next 5 minutes. They were so pissed off..." This revelation pleased everyone, since the older couple had done nothing to endear themselves to the rest of the group. Linka had encountered many friendly Germans, but had been surprised at this couple's pushiness, arrogance and generally unpleasant nature. Brooke had encountered problems when she had sat at a table for two on the first night, waiting for Amy to finish loading her plate. Olga and Oskar had approached and told her in broken English to find another table. When Brooke had refused politely, Olga sat down opposite her and the husband retrieved a chair from nearby, plonking it between them. Brooke had been too stunned to argue, leaving the table with a few choice words they had been unable to translate but knew the intended meaning.

"Da, she pushed in front of Wheeler in the dinner line last night." Linka recalled, sounding slightly slurred. _He didn't take it too well, either..._she thought fondly, watching him sink two balls in a row with ease as Pete groaned.

Aware that Brooke was watching her, she turned her attention back to the conversation.

"What's the go with you two, anyway?" Brooke asked with interest, "I mean, are you two together? Friends? Casual sex buddies?"

Blushing, Linka was glad Wheeler was occupied with his game. Considering the question for a moment, she was suddenly unsure of how to answer. Technically, they weren't together: nothing had happened as of yet.

"Um...we are just old friends. Our friend passed away recently, and this is something Ma-Ti had wanted to do," she replied honestly. Linka immediately regretted her decision as Brooke openly appraised the American, and not for the first time since they had arrived. Opening her mouth to say something, Linka was interrupted by Amy. "Food's here!" she called out as their meals arrived. Sitting in the middle, she was squashed on either side as they made way for the boys. Brooke patted the seat next to her, beckoning for Wheeler to sit beside her. Smiling apologetically at Linka, he shuffled in as Brooke congratulated him on winning the game, even with his physical handicap.

Linka tried to ignore Brooke's flirting as she ate her meal. Tossing Brooke sideways glances occasionally, Linka unhappily observed her brown, wavy hair, cleavage enhancing top, ruby coloured lips and her impressive conversational skills as she drilled Wheeler on every aspect on his life thus far. Feeling completely depressed, Linka finished her meal, downed the rest of her beer and stood unsteadily. She squeezed herself out of the confined space, feeling Wheeler's hands on her hips as she reached the end.

"I'm _gettink_ _anozher_ drink," she articulated slowly to Wheeler, her accent more noticible than usual.

"Want some money, babe?" he asked as she walked stiffly to the bar, gaining a wave of her hand in response. Smiling, he watched her fondly as she sat on a bar stool, her back to him and elbows propped up on the surface as she waited for the beer. He also noticed that her slim figure and lovely face had caught the attention and appreciation of other bar patrons. Linka wouldn't have a clue of the effect she was having on the guys, however. This was just one of the reasons why he adored her: she was genuinely unaware of her attractiveness, was fiercely intelligent (she could cut his over-sized ego down with a sharp comment in seconds), and she wasn't in the least bit vain, shallow or calculating (so unlike the chick nattering in his ear beside him).

Shifting restlessly, he realised that Brooke was waiting for a response. Unaware of what the question actually was, he tore his eyes away from Linka and asked her to repeat it.

"I said, would you teach me to play pool?" Brooke asked loudly, trying to be heard over the full tavern. _Oh, God. This isn't gonna' go down well, _he realised, looking in Linka's direction. Brooke didn't give him a chance to protest as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to an empty table. Casting a disappointed look towards Linka, her expression was clouded as she returned to the table, a round of drinks balanced precariously in front of her.

Throwing a pool cue towards him, Brooke put some Egyptian Piastre's into the coin slot as Wheeler sat on the edge of the table, watching Linka take her seat. Waving to her, she smiled and waved back, casting an uncertain glance in Brooke's direction. Just as he began to relax, Wheeler only just caught Amy's shouted comment over the ambient roar of customers:

"Hey Linka! I think Brooke's got the hots for your friend, big time!"

_Oh shit._

* * *

Wiping his bleary eyes, Wheeler glanced at the clock on the wall: one thirty. The pub had shown no signs of closing: there were still about 50 people crammed into every available space. About an hour ago Pete had joined the pair, much to Wheeler's relief.

"_Is Linka okay_?" he had asked, unable to see their table anymore. Pete had replied that she was getting horrendously drunk with his wife, and that Amy had picked up some random guy at the bar. Playing a couple more rounds, Wheeler purposely lost the final game. "OK, I'm done guys!" he announced, returning the cue to the wall.

"Hey, you wanna' watch TV in my room for a while?" Brooke announced loudly in his ear,

_I'd rather hang out for the week with Looten Plunder._

"Nah, Lin's probably passed out on the floor by now, so I'd better go find her. Thanks anyway." Saying goodbye to Pete, he moved through the crowd and approached the table...only to see that Linka was no longer there. Feeling the panic rising, he found Anne slumped with her face on the table. Shaking her awake, she looked up and blinked sleepily at him several times. Swallowing, she sat up warily.

"She went back to her room, maybe a half hour ago." Anne responded, looking impatiently in Pete's direction and obviously wanting to do the same.

_But I have the key..._he thought worriedly as he exited the restaurant and paced quickly through the lobby before entering the elevator. Arriving on the appropriate floor, Wheeler darted to the room they shared. He found no trace of her on either of the double beds, just as he had anticipated. Which left only one other possibility: she was wandering the large grounds on her own, lost and slightly inebriated.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit..._ he seethed to himself, not knowing where to start looking. Leaving the opulent foyer, he dashed down the stairs and found himself in the deserted outdoor terraced area leading into the manicured grounds. Wheeler hurried through the pizzeria area and stacked tables and chairs before weaving around the brightly coloured bushes. It was now 2 o'clock in the morning as he approached the massive, brightly lit pool hidden within the massive fences and hedges. Finally locating the entrance, he followed the gently sloping path and spotted her immediately.

Legs dangling in the refreshingly cool water, Wheeler saw that she had stacked her shoes and socks neatly beside her. She sat quietly with her back to him, head down and deep in thought. Making his way to a deck chair, he sat down as quietly as he could, but she had sensed him nonetheless.

"_Preevyet, _Jacob," she spoke without turning or raising her head, Wheeler surprised that she had remembered his birth name.

"Hi yourself. How're you feeling?"

"_Neeploha, neeploha." _she responded. _Not so bad. _"A bit of a headache, _ash-ually_."

After several minutes of silence between them, she finally stood up and staggered woozily to the deck chair beside Wheeler and dropped heavily onto it, curling into a foetal position and facing in the other direction. In the brief moment that he had seen her face, he knew that she'd been crying.

"I've been looking for you for ages, Lin. Why're you out here? You shoulda' come and dragged me away..."

"It looked like you were having fun, so I thought I'd go back to the room."

"I had the key..."

"Da, I realised that a little too late. That, and I couldn't find our room. I ended up on the roof at one stage..." she replied sleepily. "Those beers are very...very, um... I cannot think of the word."

"Lethal?"

"_Da_, _Spaseeba._"

"You're gonna' have to go easy on the Russian, hon. My understanding is pretty basic."

She apologised and turned around to face him, her eyes red and bleary. "Brooke is very pretty, da?" she asked him with a half-hearted smile, before wiping more tears away.

"She's not a patch on you, babe. Besides, I doubt she can even tie her own shoelaces..." he muttered darkly, gaining a small hiccup of a laugh from Linka. Encouraged by the reaction, he placed his hands behind his head and added an afterthought. "Can you imagine her as lawyer? She'd probably eat her clients!"

Chuckling, she threw one of her shoes at the vague outline of his head, missing by several inches.

"That was such a crap throw, Linka," he commented smartly, chucking a discarded water bottle at her legs. Squealing as the liquid ran down her bare limbs, she retaliated by throwing another shoe towards him. It clipped his shoulder hard before rebounding into the garden. "Ow, that hurt!" he hissed as Linka tried to control the giggles that had consumed her.

Her amusement quickly turned to shock as he stood and swept down on her like a bolt of lightning. Despite her frantic apologies and protests, he pulled her up and dragged her forcefully by the arms towards the pool edge. Resisting, she managed to get a wrist free and held onto the pool fence for dear life, still giggling hysterically. Grabbing her round the waist with one arm, he prized her hand away from the bars with the other and lifted her body off the ground.

"Nobody gets away with calling me Jacob AND throwing a shoe at me in one night!" he laughed, marching her over to the edge and standing over the glittering blue water.

"Don't you drop me, you bastard!" she exclaimed, still laughing and clinging tightly to his neck. _If I go, he goes._

"Or what?" he asked innocently. "Your shoes are all gone, hon! I'd have no complaints if you started throwing your clothes at me, though!" As he dangled her precariously over the edge, she gasped as her feet broke the waters surface.

"I'm sure we can come to some mutual agreement, Yankee," she offered in a slightly high-pitched voice. "_Boshe moy_... don't you drop me or your life will not be worth living," she breathed into his ear as he shifted her weight momentarily. Unsure of what he was doing, she saw him kick his sandals towards the deckchairs before grabbing one leg at a time and wrapping them around his waist. At that, he gently lowered himself down and sat on the edge, Linka perched nervously in his lap with her arms still entwined tightly around his neck.

"This OK for a compromise?" he asked, nuzzling her cheek with his nose affectionately. Nodding, she tried to focus her eyes on his unflinching gaze as a familiar sense of apprehension played havoc with her already unsettled stomach. Holding her tightly against him, he kissed her lightly on the base of her neck before drawing level with her ear and talking calmly into it.

"I think we need to have a little chat, Lin..." Waiting for a response, he was surprised when she tried to pull away and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Wheeler," she pleaded between sobs. "You know I am just nervous, I cannot help it..."

Shaking his head in bemused horror, he wiped away the tears that were streaking down her face with the pad of his thumb. "Oh Christ, hon... I wasn't talking about that!" he exclaimed, mentally cursing himself for not elaborating earlier. He rubbed her back in a gentle, comforting circular pattern as he waited for her to get the hiccups under control. "Geez, Linka, you scared the shit out of me!" he laughed, relieved that she too was smiling against his neck.

"I told you at the beginning that there was no pressure...I'm still completely blown away that you even agreed to come, ya' big dork!" he confessed, earning a half-hearted slap for the perceived insult. "C'mon, lets go back to the chairs. I'm starting to lose all feeling in my legs."

Without giving her the chance to reply, Wheeler shifted her off his lap and watched as she stood and stumbled unsteadily towards the pool lounges. She plonked herself heavily onto the cushion and made room as he approached and sat heavily behind her. She leaned back companionably against his chest and stifled a yawn, suddenly aware of how late (or early) it was. Linka smiled as she felt his fingers become entwined with her hair: she loved this sensation. It brought back memories of her grandmother doing the same thing after she had woken up from a nightmare, or following one of many schoolyard altercations. As a child, her shyness and lack of confidence had often invited bullying and teasing within her small community. Linka remembered one particular incident that had occurred, just before she had joined the Planeteers.

"Did you know that some children locked me into a school storeroom when I was a child...all night?" Judging from the lack of movement, Linka knew that she hadn't mentioned it. As his fingers resumed forming tight ringlets with her long blonde strands, she continued. "My mother had died...maybe six months earlier. I would have been about fourteen. My best friends at the time were Irina and Rada. They were beginning to become interested in boys, clothes, make-up and stuff. We had always been...er, instrumental? What is the word for always together?"

"Inseparable?"

"Da. Anyway, they began to turn on me all of a sudden. I guess it was to impress their new friends. They stopped inviting me to their houses. I could hear them whispering behind my back at lunch time. Irena was sitting behind me on the school bus one day and cut off my braid with a pair of scissors. I did not even notice until I got home. My father was furious, _Nona _was trying to fix my hair and I cried for the rest of the night. I still do not know what I'd done to deserve their actions. I returned to school the next day and they were still whispering and laughing and pointing...then I saw them talking to an older girl; Sofia, I think her name was. As I was gathering my books in the afternoon, all three of them grabbed me and dragged me into the teacher's storeroom. Sofia was yelling something about me trying to steal her boyfriend, which was just stupid because I couldn't talk to boys at all at that age, and Irina and Rada knew this. I could hear them through the door, laughing as they walked out. The teachers had all left by then, so I was stuck there until the cleaner found me the next morning."

Linka yawned again, a little surprised at Wheeler's continued silence. His fingers brushed the side of her face as she continued her story.

"My family had called the police: they had presumed I'd been mugged, raped or even killed. Many young girls had disappeared around Moscow around this time. The cleaner drove me home and I never returned to that place. Nona schooled me at home and taught me the keyboard and piano. I will never forget my father's face when he opened the door and saw me standing there. He was already sick with the cancer at that stage. He had been working in the mines for too long. Anyway, whenever I was upset and needed comforting, my Nona would lay my head in her lap and run her fingers through my hair."

"You ever meet those bitches again?"

Linka chuckled lightly. Wheeler was certainly not one to mince words. "Da. I saw Rada at my father's funeral and again about two years ago."

"Did you blast her into oblivion with your ring?"

"Nyet, I was quite civil to her, actually. I now know that Irina was behind most of it. It is no use holding onto the bitterness and anger... I learnt a great deal from the situation. Nyet, I will not let anybody treat me like that again. I can stand up for myself now and besides, they married very young and had many children. They will never be able to have the opportunities to do the things that I have been given so far..."

Wheeler contemplated this information carefully, a cheeky smile spreading across his features. "I woulda' gone back for revenge, Linka. I dunno', something creative like sending them out to sea in a hurricane or blowing their clothes off with gale-force winds in front of the whole town..."

Linka snorted with playful contempt. "Da, what a surprise, Wheeler! I'm sure the sight of naked, Russian women running in all directions would no doubt please you!"

"Some Russian women more than others, babe..." he responded with a lopsided grin, earning a sharp elbow in the ribs for the effort. "Ow..."

"Shut up, Yankee-Boy. Get your mind out of the ceiling..."

"That's 'gutter', you vocabulary-challenged blonde dimwit!" Expecting a flurry of angry words, Wheeler was surprised when she didn't offer a retort but instead stared directly ahead, a faint smile appearing on her lips. In all truth, he enjoyed provoking her. Their intense fighting and bickering had been legendary amongst the other Planeteers. Wheeler acknowledged the fact that he would often purposely start many of these arguments, especially in the beginning. She had a fiery temper when pushed too far, but occasionally showed a more vulnerable side.

At present, she sat quietly with a pensive expression on her pretty face, her hair delicately falling in waves around her shoulders. Wheeler found himself involuntarily leaning his face forward over her shoulder and studying her features intently. His eyes traveled over her lips, curved nose and high cheekbones before his sights came to rest on her dark eyelashes. The small freckle under her right eye was just visible in the limited light.

"You said that you wanted to speak to me about something earlier?" Linka inquired softly, aware of both his gaze and the hot, tingling sensation it was causing to her body.

Thoroughly distracted by her mere presence, it took him several moments to clear the haze and remember the conversation.

"Look, it's nothing serious, hon. I'm just a little confused about your reaction to the whole 'Brooke' thing, to tell you the truth. I mean, you can't actually think that I'd... "

Linka interrupted forcefully, her voice wavering. "I envy her because she knows exactly what she wants and she goes and gets it...and it was pretty obvious even to me what she wanted! It frustrates me so much that I don't have the confidence to do that."

"Linka, there are plenty of girls around like that and they're about as interesting as a door-mat! You need to stop putting yourself down. I mean for God's sake, I've been comin' onto you since day one, so why the hell would I think of stopping now?" Shaking his head in amazement, Wheeler wrapped his arms tightly around her waist as he instinctively sensed her blush and turn away, self conscious and shifting slightly against his chest.

Realising that this was the ideal time to come clean with his feelings, he gently lifted her chin up and to the right as he gazed at Linka fondly, her head now tilted back on his shoulder.

"I absolutely adore you, girl. I'm in love with you...always have been," he confessed, relieved to have gotten it off his chest after so long. He held her tired, bewildered gaze almost defiantly as she struggled to process this revelation, her lips moving but no words coming out. She closed her mouth just as quickly and blinked several times before suddenly pulling away from him. Wheeler's heart skipped a beat as a rush of cool air replaced Linka's warm body. His disappointment was short-lived however, as she turned around and proceeded to sit on his lap, feet dangling on either side and her face merely an inch from his. She shifted herself further up his legs and embraced him fiercely.

Wheeler's initial shock turned to relief as he hugged her back. Without thinking, he drew his legs up until she was pressed securely against his body, before plunging his face and hands into her hair. They stayed like this for several minutes until Wheeler's patience got the better of him. He actively sought out her lips and kissed her hungrily, before pulling Linka closer, desperate to feel her body against his and unable to get close enough.

Linka giggled nervously as his arm encircled her bottom and lifted her up for several moments, before gently pushing her backwards so that her head was resting at the other end of the lounge. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was on top of her, crushing his lips and body against hers in a passionate frenzy. As her hands worked their way underneath his shirt he suddenly froze above her, breathing heavily and listening intently.

"What is it?" She asked, desperately longing for the return of his affections. Wheeler raised his head a few centimetres and immediately found the cause of his distraction.

"Oh, shit. Brilliant timing..." he muttered, shaking his head and grinning down at her.

"What? I can't see anything..." Linka responded breathlessly, her cheeks still inflamed from the prior contact.

Chuckling, he stood up and dragged Linka with him. Nodding beyond the pool fence, she noticed movement through the hedge. "I was about to molest you in front of the 'pita-ladies'." With mounting horror, she saw that Wheeler was right. Checking her watch, she realised it was 4:30 in the morning: the workers were beginning to set up for the day.

"Where are your shoes, babe?" Seeming to be in a world of her own, Wheeler had to repeat the question before she responded appropriately. Pointing to a clump of bushes, he sprinted over and found one immediately. Upon further searching, they found the other underneath an adjacent lounge.

Wheeler grabbed Linka's hand and led her out of the pool area. They crept past the small group of hooded women kneading and rolling the balls of dough, ready to be cooked in makeshift kilns and distributed for eating with dips by the hotel guests. They also passed a man in uniform carrying a net and bucket of chlorine. Linka shuddered as she understood the potential implications of being caught red-handed by the pool cleaner. Sneaking through the lobby, they finally reached the elevators and waited silently for the doors to open. As they stepped inside, Wheeler noticed the dark circles under Linka's eyes, and knew he probably didn't look much better.

"You realise we need to be up for breakfast in about three hours?" he pondered aloud while stifling a yawn. Linka smiled and nodded from the other side of the lift, hands in her pockets and observing him quietly.

"What?" he asked as the doors opened and she exited, Wheeler following her closely down the hallway.

"Your hair is sticking up, Jacob. It looks like you were hit by lightning!" She threw a tired but rather beautiful smile over her shoulder as they approached the hotel room door. Linka gazed sleepily at him, leaning against the wall for added support.

"You have the key, Yankee..."

"Oh, yeah." Shaking himself, he briefly fumbled for the keys and opened the door.

Linka walked in and immediately fell back onto her bed, gazing up at the ceiling. This seemingly innocent action proved to have spectacular consequences as the room began to spin increasingly out of control. The blood rushed from her face as Linka sat up quickly and swallowed, silently pleading with her stomach to behave appropriately. Unfortunately, her stomach refused to comply as the first wave of nausea passed through her body.

"I do not feel so good, Wheeler..." she whimpered, barely noticing him approach, grab her arm securely and lead her into the immaculate bathroom. Another wave of nausea hit as Wheeler helped lower her to the tiled floor. Linka instinctively hugged the toilet seat that would no doubt be her companion for the next hour. As the contents of her stomach were unleashed into the pristine basin below, the last thing Linka clearly remembered was the weight of Wheeler's comforting hand on the back of her neck.

She eventually passed out on the floor in front of the toilet bowl, looking pale and clammy. After placing her on one of the twin beds, he covered her with a light sheet before throwing their belongings hastily into whichever suitcase was closer. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Wheeler was now acutely aware of the throbbing pain in his hand as he scavenged for some spare painkillers. Upon swallowing them, he sat on the edge of his bed and watched Linka sleeping soundly, her arm thrown haphazardly across her forehead. An overwhelming sense of loneliness began to invade his thoughts as he watched Linka, knowing he couldn't bear to lose her as they had Ma-Ti. With that unpleasant thought banished to the back of his mind, he crossed over to her bed and lay down beside her, on top of the blankets. As tiredness began to take over, he wrapped his good arm around her waist and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Wheeler was woken up some two hours later to the sound of a phone call. He made a conscious decision to ignore it, preferring to close his eyes and cuddle up contentedly to the heavily-sleeping form lying beside him. The phone continued ringing despite Wheeler's efforts to dismiss it entirely. Cursing, he leaned over Linka to answer, ready to tear strips off the caller. Anger turned to surprise as Pete patiently explained that breakfast was nearly over and their tour flight to Aswan was leaving in less than an hour.

"Shit!"

Jumping off the bed, he attempted to shake his heavily hung-over patient into consciousness before dashing into the shower.

"Oi! Get up, we're late!" Wheeler bellowed from the bathroom, relieved that they were practically ready to leave. Hearing no response, he dried off and changed into fresh clothes within record time. Wheeler exited the bathroom and shook Linka again, gaining a muffled groan in response.

"Oi! We gotta' go, babe." He brushed Linka's tangled hair out of her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, a bemused expression evident on his face. Sutchi had now awakened and padded over to see what all the fuss was about.

"I do not feel so good, Yankee..." Linka's reply was almost inaudible as she buried her head under the pillow and attempted to burrow further underneath the blankets.

"C'mon, you can sleep on the plane. I'm gonna' grab some breakfast." With that, he grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it down to the end of the bed, despite her protestations.

"See ya, babe!"

Linka's responded by throwing a heavily bound bible at his head. Needless to say, he easily dodged the oncoming object before exiting the room, chuckling amusedly under his breath.

An hour and a half later, they were sitting together in the seventh row of a small aircraft that closely resembled a sardine can. Anne and Pete had taken their seats behind them, the couple obviously feeling a little apprehensive about the reliability of their designated transport. Wheeler couldn't fault their unease: the safety masks had dropped when the engines had kicked over, then the pilot had begun the take of process, slowed, then turned around and begun another approach. The tour group were assured that the engines simply required warming up, however a many of the group had concerned expressions on their face, including Linka.

Wheeler tried to reassure her as best he could, glancing every now and then at her puffy eyes and pale complexion.

"There is chewing gum on my seat, Jacob."

"Hungry?"

"That is disgusting, Yankee." Nevertheless, she was unable to control the smile that brightened her features as she peered out of the window, watching the Nile River disappear beneath them. _Ma-Ti would have loved this. _Sighing, she hoped Sutchi was doing OK in the cargo area of the plane. Her headache was still present, not helped by their favourite German couple sitting in the opposite row and bickering in loud, obnoxious voices.

"Shice-kopf," she muttered towards them in German, knowing enough of the language to insult them adequately. Wheeler turned from his conversation with Pete, curious as to what she had said. Grinning, she leaned over and whispered the English translation into Wheeler's ear. Laughing, he propped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. After settling back comfortably into their seats, the pair slept for the rest of the journey.

* * *

"There is a phone in our bathrooms! Such opulence..."

Clearly impressed, Linka was comparing Wheeler's interconnecting room to hers. Currently, she was checking out his mini-bar. "Your room has a better view of the temple, Yankee. I can only see a tree from mine."

"If I were a gentleman I'd swap rooms with you, Linka."

"Well, you are certainly no gentleman, so I guess I will have to stay where I am." She replied cheekily, re-entering her room and tossing her cardigan on the bed.

Shaking his head, Wheeler began to unpack, still hearing Linka's admiring comments floating through the open door. _Where's Sutchi gone? _A brief moment of panic subsided as he glanced into Linka's room and saw the little monkey lying lethargically on top of the television. This seemed to be a common sight: Sutchi had by now become aware that his master was not coming home. For the first few weeks Sutchi had waited patiently for Ma-Ti to arrive home: now, the animal seemed constantly depressed and quiet. Wheeler knew how the little guy felt and had made a conscious effort to be nicer to him.

A phone call interrupted his thoughts for the second time that day. Unable to find the source of the ringing at first, he realised it was coming from the bathroom. _Linka._

Wheeler grabbed the receiver and spoke into it. "You have reached the retired super-hero hotline. If you wish to claim superannuation benefits, press one. If you have an injury to report, press two. If you have a sexual harassment claim to report, press three..."

Judging from the incessant beeping filling his ears, Wheeler assumed that she was both recovering from her hang-over and had chosen the third option.

"You're complaint has been lodged. Wanna' have lunch, sexy-bum?"

"I will have an injury to report as well if you are not careful, Wheeler. Da, lets go."

* * *

The next three days in Aswan had flown by. The pair had taken a _felucca _ride on the Nile, visited the High Dam, the granite quarries (where pharaohs had obelisks and statues bearing their likenesses carved into stone) and the magnificent Temple of Isis. Linka and Anne chose to fly to Abu Simbel as part of an optional excursion, leaving the boys behind to swan around Aswan. The trip was only meant to be for half the day, but unfortunately a sand storm halted their plans.

The girls ended up stranded at the overcrowded "Nefertiti Hotel" overnight while they waited for the flight ban to be lifted. Linka was told that these storms only occurred about three times a year. Since the sand affected both visibility and engine performance, she and Anne chose to go with the flow and wait patiently for news from their tour director. Another four tours were also grounded at the temple, so the frustrated and tired travellers passed the time by sitting around the hotel pool or chatting in the car park since no rooms were available. The oppressive heat had already began taking it's toll on some of the older participants: Linka had counted three ambulances weave their way through the sea of people in front of the hotel. Anne seemed to be coming down with the dreaded 'Tut's Gut' and with a short supply of clean water available, the situation was becoming desperate.

36 hours after the tourists had arrived at Abu Simbel, they were finally ushered onto the tarmac and guided to their seats. No one spoke on the flight back to Aswan.

* * *

Linka trudged wearily into her room after fumbling for her key for several minutes. Once inside, she briefly checked for any sign of Wheeler but found none. _Must be continuing with today's activities, _she mused while showering, trying to wash off the dirt and sand that had accumulated over the past day or so. Feeling clean and slightly better about herself, she dressed into her pyjama's and collapsed onto her bed, aware that they had another flight to catch to Cairo in the morning. After much tossing and turning, she turned the television on and found an American cartoon channel showing with Arabic subtitles. Settling back on the pillows, she allowed Ash and Pikachu to entertain her.

By about 6pm, Linka could hear the scrape of a key coming from the next room. Wheeler's voice resonated loudly, followed by Pete's as they discussed the day noisily. Linka listened quietly as the other room went quiet, the boys obviously hearing the TV and realising Linka was back. Poking his head through the connecting door, Wheeler's face brightened when he spotted her.

"Hey, you! When did ya' get back?"

"About two hours ago."

"Anne's back in our room?" Pete had joined Wheeler at the door, obviously relieved they had made it back safely. Gaining a nod in response, Pete bade them goodbye and hurried from the room, closing the door loudly behind him.

Linka shuffled over to make room for the American, holding the blankets up invitingly. Accepting the unusual gesture, he climbed in beside her and repositioned the sheets accordingly.

"Are you okay?"

"Da. A little tired, but it could have been worse, I guess."

"God, at least you were put up in a hotel for the night."

"Nyet, Wheeler, we were put up in the _carpark_ of a hotel. Anne and I slept in the garden. We were eaten alive by mosquitoes, we ran out of fresh water and many terrified souls ended up in a third-world hospital with dehydration."

"**_WHAT!_** You're joking!"

Wheeler sounded shocked as Linka filled him in on her mini adventure. "The temple was wonderful, though..." she added as an afterthought.

"Shit, Linka...we were told you were fine. Pete was freaking out something severe, though."

"And you weren't worried about me at all?"

"Nah. I managed to keep myself busy." _Liar._

Linka smiled to herself while playing with the edge of the cotton blanket, the television casting coloured flashes of light across the room courtesy of the Yu-Gi-Oh cartoon currently showing. "Where is Sutchi?"

"Asleep. Still seems a little down, poor bugger."

"Da, well thats not surprising."

Wheeler momentarily brightened for a moment. Turning on his side to face her, he told her about Kwame's phone call. "They've left South America and are heading for Europe. They wanna' know if we're interested in joining them?"

"I would love to, but what will we do for money? My savings are just about..."

"That's what I need to discuss with you." Wheeler interrupted, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Gi was contacted by some foreign bank yesterday and it seems that accounts were set up for all of us when we first got our rings. From what she can gather, large amounts have been deposited on a regular basis over the years..."

"How much?" Linka whispered, heart beating hard in her chest.

"Gi's not entirely sure. Seven figures, I'm told."

"Bozhe moy, Wheeler! That is amazing! Split five ways, that will mean..." Linka stopped when Wheeler grinned and shook his head.

"That's each, Lin. Seven figures _**each**._"

Linka sat in stunned denial for a moment, digesting the information she had been given while Wheeler continued. "Ma'Ti's earnings will go to his family, I guess. "

"What on earth are we going to do with that much money, Wheeler?" Linka was clearly overwhelmed with the events of the day as she placed her hands over her face, willing herself not to cry. "We have never needed money before..."

"We never HAD money before," Wheeler pointed out wisely, settling into a sitting position to watch the T.V screen. "Hey, this is Roger Ramjet! I haven't seen this for years..."

As the American sat watching his favourite childhood cartoon, Linka's mind raced with thoughts and feelings of guilt. Wiping a lone tear away, she shuffled herself up and laid her head on Wheeler's chest, feeling the comforting weight of his arm wrapping itself around her body. They lay in silence for a while, Linka completely distracted by Wheeler's fingers grazing the skin at side of her waist where her singlet had ridden up slightly.

"What would you buy with the money, Jacob?"

"A harem," he replied without thinking. "Ouch! God, you're so predictable...okay, um...probably a house, I guess. Haven't really though about it. You?"

"The same. Who told you to stop, Yankee?" Wheeler's hand had momentarily settled on her hip. Chuckling, his hand resumed tickling her thigh. He had to admit, the girl both confused and enthralled him.

"Sorry, boss."

"I wanted to be Rainbow Bright when I was a little girl."

"How the hell did the conversation lead to that?"

"Well, we are watching cartoons, Wheeler. It just popped into my head. I used to stand in the garden in the backyard and sing the song, hoping a rainbow would appear and take me away."

"You're such a friggen' fairy, Linka."

Linka wholeheartedly agreed with him, giggling into his t-shirt. "Da, it is true. What time is it?"

"Dunno." Glimpsing the alarm clock on the other side of the bed, he rolled a still-giggling Linka onto her back in order to check the time. "8:30."

"Bozhe moy, we have missed dinner!"

Looking down at her fondly, Wheeler didn't seem the least bit concerned. "What a goddamn tragedy," he commented, tweaking her nose playfully using his good hand. She didn't flinch or look away this time, instead matched his gaze with an expression of utmost confidence.

He lowered himself further, propping himself up on his elbows above her and kissing her gently for several minutes. Her arms eagerly wrapped around his neck and pulled him further down, deepening the contact between them. Linka closed her eyes and relished the sensation of his hands roaming her body.

"Hey, Ninja Turtles!" Feigning distraction, Wheeler froze and listened to the theme music, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Who told you to stop, Yankee?" Linka repeated, aware that he was purposely taunting her. Grinning, Wheeler grabbed the remote and turned the screen off. Pulling his shirt off, he quickly resumed showering his girl with affection.

"Sorry, boss."

_The End_


End file.
